This kind of casualties on the order of thousands is too much for the emergency departments of many hospitals in super metropolises like New York. Many seriously injured people may die before they are put on the operating table.
Luke has already begun to use the light of life to hang all the most seriously injured people as much as possible.
But he can't do anything about the wounded in the head, or the wounded with extensive bleeding.
At the same time, the avatar was also dispatched, and changed into a stranger's face, and went to the subway station in Queens for rescue.
Compared with the deity, the avatar has basically no scruples about using the light of life, just cover it up a little, and the efficiency is much higher than the deity.
Even so, there are bound to be many wounded who will die due to insufficient rescue.
In about half an hour, he completed the preliminary rescue work of this subway station.
Amidst the screams and wailing at the subway station, he called Selina, and the two returned to the ground.
He did everything he could do, and the rest could only be handed over to the patrolmen and ambulance personnel who arrived one after another.
This scene was already the luckiest one among the eight subway stations, because when the explosion happened, Luke and Luke were nearby.
The two didn't delay, and drove to another subway station in Brooklyn after getting up.
There are avatars working hard in the three subway stations in Queens, and Luke and the two can handle the three subway stations in Brooklyn.
As for the two subway stations that exploded in Manhattan, there are several hospitals nearby, which are much better than those in the two districts here. We can only hope that the rescuers will be strong enough.
And when Luke and Selena were busy here, the police station was also in chaos.
Most of the agents rushed to the subway station, and the rest of the clerks were very busy.
The phone on the desk and the mobile phone in the pocket rang one after another, making them flustered.
Some acquaintances of police detectives called the police, and some relatives and friends asked about the situation.
At this moment, the weather in the afternoon of May made people extremely irritable. Everyone was sweating profusely, and many people's voices had already started to become hoarse.
As the head of the police department, Dustin did not act.
He has to stay in the Bureau and make sure that there is no hindrance to communication with both the upper and lower sides.
However, he did not stay in the office, but stood at the door of the office.
Anyone with unsolvable problems can come to him directly.
At the same time, he would take time to check the dynamics of several discussion groups on his phone.
Forget about the big team of the Police Detective Bureau, the information in it is added in a way of swiping the screen, and it is impossible to see it at all.
On the other hand, in the group with Luke and Elsa, the information is not too much, but it is very important.
Luke and Luke sneaked into intelligence research when they had nothing to do. One of Elsa and Elizabeth was in an administrative position at the headquarters, and the other was in charge of network information collection. They were both old intelligence workers.
In addition to ensuring each other's safety, the following information is necessary and concise information.
Unlike in the big team of the Police Detective Bureau, some of the more than one hundred detectives directly cursed at the voice messages.
They were not scolding the colleagues in the group, but scolding the bosses at the headquarters for not sending support.
A few African-American police detectives showed their racial talent even more, and even cursed people with the feeling of rap.
But Luke believes that within an hour or two at most, all these cursing raps will be withdrawn.
It doesn't matter what you said, this is a classic function on Feixun.
It fully proves what Feixun said, not only can it be sent quickly, but it can also be eaten back faster.
At this moment, the phone in Dustin's office rang, and he immediately went to pick it up.
A man's voice came from the phone: "Hello, is this Superintendent Dustin Hammer?"
Dustin frowned: "It's me, who are you?"
The man on the other end of the phone laughed lowly: "Sampler-Simon once said to the pie maker that a good show is about to be staged. Give me your pie, or I will screw your head off. You see, the subway station is just a Go. Well, you have a John McClane over there, don't you?"
Dustin paused for a moment with his tapping hand on the table: "He's been on indefinite leave."
The other end of the phone laughed: "No, he has to be here, he must be here today."
Dustin: "Who are you?"
The man on the phone: "You can call me Simon."
Dustin: "What do you want?"
Simon on the other end of the phone: "I want to play a game."
Dustin: "What game?"
Simon: "You can call it—Simon said. Simon will tell Officer McLean what to do, and Officer McClain must do it, and disobedience will result in punishment."
Dustin's heart skipped a beat, his face darkened: "What punishment?"
Simon smiled lowly: "There will be another big "accident" at the subway station in the downtown area."
After a while, Dustin hung up the phone, picked up his office phone and dialed John's number.
Half a minute later, he put away his cell phone, walked to the door with black lines all over his face, raised his voice and shouted, "Connie, do you know where John is?"
Connie covered the microphone in her hand: "I don't know, maybe I died drunk in a trash can."
Dustin put his hand on his forehead, and he guessed the same.
In desperation, he could only send a message to John and Joe individually from the group.
The message to John is to let him contact himself immediately.
The message to Joe is to let him put down everything in his hand, find that bastard John as soon as possible, and then notify the bureau.
Half an hour later, in an operational logistics vehicle, Joe took the painkillers she brought from the police station from Connie, and handed a bottle of mineral water to John who was sitting on the floor.
Dustin and several backbone police detectives formed a semi-circle, condescendingly watching, their faces full of pain.
A calm person like Dustin couldn't help complaining: "Jesus (God), John, you look like a lump of shit."
This is what he told John not to drink too much and to take a good rest.
Looking at it now, it turns out that those words were all for the dog.
John just pretended he didn't hear it. He's still hungover and has a terrible headache, so let's just shi!
Taking the two painkillers that Joe poured out, he lifted his hand up.
Joe shook the bottle helplessly, and added two more tablets to him, otherwise John would have a headache to do "that thing" Simon said, and this guy might go on strike.
He swallowed the painkiller with water, took out a cigarette, lit it, took a puff, and then asked: "Well, what was the lottery number last night?"
Everyone said in unison: "4667."
John shrugged: "It seems that we are out of the game."
Everyone was speechless.
More than half of the people in nypd like to bet with their own police numbers.
We are all old acquaintances, and we all remember each other's alarm numbers clearly, so every time we draw a lottery, everyone knows that no one has won.
"We'll be in Hell's Kitchen soon, boss." Police officer Billy, who was driving ahead, reminded.
Dustin's head is full of black lines: You deserve it, Sabi Li, who will drive for the rest of his life! At this time, even if you don't deliberately say the Clinton District, you can also say the name of the street, what about Hell's Kitchen.